Introduction
You won’t find this parable in the Sunday lectionary—and that’s a shame. It’s one of the most daring things Jesus ever said.
He begins with something that sounds familiar enough: a nobleman heading off to receive a kingdom. But the second the words leave His mouth, everyone tenses. They’ve heard this before. They’ve seen this before—right where they’re standing.
The Jericho plain is littered with reminders of it: half‑buried stones, bits of mosaic, the decaying footprint of Herod Archelaus’s palace. You can almost feel the dust of empire clinging to your sandals. This is the backdrop Jesus chooses—this memory of a false king who went away and came back in blood.
And in that place, with those ruins around Him, Jesus says quietly,
“Let me tell you about a king who went away and came back.”
A Note on Why This Week Matters
Years ago, while I was finishing seminary, this parable became my constant companion. I dug through Josephus, Roman politics, and a dozen historical commentaries trying to figure out why Jesus would tell a story that made Him sound like a tyrant. What started as research turned into revelation.
I learned that when Jesus used history, He wasn’t copying it—He was correcting it. Once you see that, the whole passage comes alive.
So this week isn’t a lecture. It’s a walk through the ruins with the Teacher who turned them into a classroom.
Day One – A Kingdom Beside the Ruins
New Testament: Luke 19:11‑12
Old Testament: Daniel 7:13‑14
Historical Context
Archelaus’s Story
After Herod the Great’s death in 4 BCE, Rome divided his domain among his sons. Archelaus, oldest and most ambitious, received Judea, Samaria, and Idumea—by far the richest share.
Jewish law required imperial confirmation, so he sailed to Rome to appear before Caesar Augustus.
Josephus, both in Jewish Antiquities 17 and War 2, preserves the memory:
before Archelaus left, crowds in Jerusalem petitioned him to curb his father’s brutality. Instead, he unleashed soldiers on pilgrims worshiping at Passover—three thousand men, women, and children slaughtered in the Temple courts.
When the delegation of fifty Jewish elders arrived in Rome, they told Caesar, “We do not want this man to reign over us.”
Those exact words appear in Luke 19:14.
Augustus hesitated. He denied Archelaus the title king but allowed him to serve as Ethnarch—ruler, not monarch. Archelaus returned home humiliated yet ruthless. His nine‑year reign proved the delegation right: corruption, heavy taxation, and unlawful marriages eroded Judean life.
Ultimately even Rome tired of him; in 6 CE Augustus banished him to Gaul. His territories became a Roman province—the one later governed by Pontius Pilate.
When Jesus told His parable, that grim chapter was only a generation old. The ruins of Archelaus’s palace still littered Jericho. To any Galilean ear, “a nobleman who went to a distant country to receive a kingdom” was practically code language: remember Archelaus.
How Jesus Uses the Story
By borrowing a tyrant’s biography, Jesus holds a mirror to earthly power.
He doesn’t crown Himself Archelaus’s successor; He implies, My kingdom isn’t built like his.
The nobleman of the parable rules by fear; Christ will rule by sacrifice.
OK -so this is extremely important that you know!!! THIS PARABLE IS NOT ABOUT JESUS
One filled a temple with blood; the other will let His own blood fall outside its walls.
It’s historical parody at its sharpest—a local tragedy turned spiritual contrast. The story hurts, but it heals perspective.
Modern Context
Let's get real for a moment.... Every generation has its Archelauses.
They promise order, build monuments, then collapse under pride.
We drive past their empty headquarters, read about their scandals, inherit the wreckage of their “kingdoms.”
And through every age walks Jesus, pointing quietly at the debris and saying, “Here’s what power looks like without love. Now watch what love does with power.”
His parables work like mirrors—history bent toward hope.
Need you to buckle up because this week is very different - Luke is intentional with this as the last text before the passion narrative - He is not what the world thinks!
Reflection
Prayer
Lord of all kingdoms,
You walked among the broken palaces of this world and called them classrooms.
Teach me to learn from what has fallen rather than envy what still shines.
Save me from chasing crowns that crush, and make me faithful to Your kingdom that heals.
Amen.
You won’t find this parable in the Sunday lectionary—and that’s a shame. It’s one of the most daring things Jesus ever said.
He begins with something that sounds familiar enough: a nobleman heading off to receive a kingdom. But the second the words leave His mouth, everyone tenses. They’ve heard this before. They’ve seen this before—right where they’re standing.
The Jericho plain is littered with reminders of it: half‑buried stones, bits of mosaic, the decaying footprint of Herod Archelaus’s palace. You can almost feel the dust of empire clinging to your sandals. This is the backdrop Jesus chooses—this memory of a false king who went away and came back in blood.
And in that place, with those ruins around Him, Jesus says quietly,
“Let me tell you about a king who went away and came back.”
A Note on Why This Week Matters
Years ago, while I was finishing seminary, this parable became my constant companion. I dug through Josephus, Roman politics, and a dozen historical commentaries trying to figure out why Jesus would tell a story that made Him sound like a tyrant. What started as research turned into revelation.
I learned that when Jesus used history, He wasn’t copying it—He was correcting it. Once you see that, the whole passage comes alive.
So this week isn’t a lecture. It’s a walk through the ruins with the Teacher who turned them into a classroom.
Day One – A Kingdom Beside the Ruins
New Testament: Luke 19:11‑12
Old Testament: Daniel 7:13‑14
Historical Context
Archelaus’s Story
After Herod the Great’s death in 4 BCE, Rome divided his domain among his sons. Archelaus, oldest and most ambitious, received Judea, Samaria, and Idumea—by far the richest share.
Jewish law required imperial confirmation, so he sailed to Rome to appear before Caesar Augustus.
Josephus, both in Jewish Antiquities 17 and War 2, preserves the memory:
before Archelaus left, crowds in Jerusalem petitioned him to curb his father’s brutality. Instead, he unleashed soldiers on pilgrims worshiping at Passover—three thousand men, women, and children slaughtered in the Temple courts.
When the delegation of fifty Jewish elders arrived in Rome, they told Caesar, “We do not want this man to reign over us.”
Those exact words appear in Luke 19:14.
Augustus hesitated. He denied Archelaus the title king but allowed him to serve as Ethnarch—ruler, not monarch. Archelaus returned home humiliated yet ruthless. His nine‑year reign proved the delegation right: corruption, heavy taxation, and unlawful marriages eroded Judean life.
Ultimately even Rome tired of him; in 6 CE Augustus banished him to Gaul. His territories became a Roman province—the one later governed by Pontius Pilate.
When Jesus told His parable, that grim chapter was only a generation old. The ruins of Archelaus’s palace still littered Jericho. To any Galilean ear, “a nobleman who went to a distant country to receive a kingdom” was practically code language: remember Archelaus.
How Jesus Uses the Story
By borrowing a tyrant’s biography, Jesus holds a mirror to earthly power.
He doesn’t crown Himself Archelaus’s successor; He implies, My kingdom isn’t built like his.
The nobleman of the parable rules by fear; Christ will rule by sacrifice.
OK -so this is extremely important that you know!!! THIS PARABLE IS NOT ABOUT JESUS
One filled a temple with blood; the other will let His own blood fall outside its walls.
It’s historical parody at its sharpest—a local tragedy turned spiritual contrast. The story hurts, but it heals perspective.
Modern Context
Let's get real for a moment.... Every generation has its Archelauses.
They promise order, build monuments, then collapse under pride.
We drive past their empty headquarters, read about their scandals, inherit the wreckage of their “kingdoms.”
And through every age walks Jesus, pointing quietly at the debris and saying, “Here’s what power looks like without love. Now watch what love does with power.”
His parables work like mirrors—history bent toward hope.
Need you to buckle up because this week is very different - Luke is intentional with this as the last text before the passion narrative - He is not what the world thinks!
Reflection
- None-today other than - where else have you been fooled by wht you HTOUGHT the bible said?
Prayer
Lord of all kingdoms,
You walked among the broken palaces of this world and called them classrooms.
Teach me to learn from what has fallen rather than envy what still shines.
Save me from chasing crowns that crush, and make me faithful to Your kingdom that heals.
Amen.
Posted in Pentecost 2025
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